


Personal Notes (1) A Beginning

by longhairshortfuse



Series: Carlos's Secret Diary [1]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Awkward Crush, Cecil - Freeform, M/M, Scientist Carlos (Welcome to Night Vale), introductions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 15:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1654130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longhairshortfuse/pseuds/longhairshortfuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos keeps a secret diary of his time in Night Vale. It's not all science and password protected so he can write what he likes. Mostly he likes Cecil. Follows the podcast timeline sort of. This is the first couple of parts only.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Personal Notes (1) A Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> The start of the fanfic I've been writing to fill time between episodes. Introduces a new character (well, Carlos needs someone else to talk to!)

**Personal Supplementary Notes**

_These are my personal notes, separate from my main lab journal. Experience has taught me to keep a separate and undisclosed log of unusual activity and personal observations. Especially when I am not sure who is funding my research._

We are here. Wherever here is.

It is so exciting to be setting up a new team with a new lab. My lab buddy, Ell, arrived a couple of days ago and has worked hard to set up all our equipment. I don't know any of the postgrad scientists yet, but they seem keen and are buzzing around the lab learning what all the humming electricals and glassware are for. Ell and I were approached to head up the team only a few weeks ago, and I am not clear about why they approached us, exactly. However, we got all new equipment and a spacious empty shop with apartments above, next to a pizza place. Science, pizza, sleep. I don't need much more than that. 

We're studying the most scientifically interesting community in the US. I've read the initial reports sent in by a local high school student ("Weird Shit", "More Weird Shit" and "You'll Never Believe What Just Fucking Happened") but I have been unable to contact him for more details. The school principal replied to my emails by claiming that no student of that name existed, at least not any more, and that in any case their science curriculum was limited to "Things That Are Probably Real." She suggested I take it up with the community radio station management where the student had recently been taken on as an intern.

I called a town meeting to reassure the locals, I don't want another career-blighting incident like last year. Plenty of people turned up and a local woman even brought corn muffins, which was kind of her although they were lacking sodium chloride which is an important part of the diet in a hot desert environment like this, where people sweat to stay cool and it dries so you can feel the salt crystals rough on your skin. Ell stayed in the background sorting out the sound system and surreptitiously observing people whilst being nice to them. She's a people-person, maybe the degree in psychology helps, where I'm more of a typical energy-science type. I can talk about science for hours but I might not notice if you're bored and socially I am afraid of saying the wrong thing. Often I say nothing at all. A blue helicopter hovered for a while, but moved on. A few of the onlookers wore black suits and sunglasses, quite impractical in the desert dust and heat. Ell ignored them. I saw her talking to a strange character, a white man wearing a plastic feathered headdress, then walk away shaking her head and rolling her eyes. 

I tried to make eye contact with some of the townsfolk as I spoke about why we are here and what we have found out so far about time, the house that isn't there and the earthquakes, and I smiled. Ell says I should do that more. I made eye contact with a striking looking man in the small crowd, smiled at him and flicked my overgrown hair out of my eyes. I need a haircut, there must be a barber somewhere in town. I had an odd sensation when our eyes met. He wasn't tall or short or fat or thin but there was something about his waist length, smooth-straight dark hair with the white highlight, neatly clasped behind his neck, dark skin and intense eyes that made me want to look again, and for longer. But I was suddenly nervous. Science tells me that it was a surge of adrenalin causing blood to be diverted from my intestines to my muscles ready for fight or flight. All I felt was fluttering and fizzing in the pit of my stomach and my words drying to dust in my mouth. The beautiful man spoke to me, asked me some questions in a voice oozing honey while the postgrads dissected a couple of clocks to find out why they didn't work properly, but as the fizzing intensified I felt suddenly hot. I looked into his deep, violet eyes, mumbled and bumbled and was embarrassingly unable to answer. I failed science today. The striking looking man caught sight of the white man wearing the plastic feather headdress and I saw his friendly, interested expression flicker, just for a second, to one of scowling fury before he turned to me again, flashed a devastatingly beautiful smile, said goodbye and left.

Later, back in the lab, Ell told me to turn on the radio. I recognised that honey-smooth voice, although a little different, more measured and formal on the radio than in person. Now I know where this beautiful man is to be found. He reported on our town meeting and, as he went on to talk about me personally, I felt crushing, airless weight and the creeping heat of embarrassment. Was he mocking me? Mocking my appearance? I went straight over to the radio station, intending to challenge him for his cruelty, wondering if he knew why I had moved here, what I wanted to leave behind. I took some materials monitoring equipment with me as a pretext in case I was refused entry without a scientific reason for being there. At reception, an intern insisted I hand over my phone, explaining that phone signals interfere with the broadcasting equipment. This is true with some older equipment but I thought it odd that she didn't bat an eyelid at the rest of my science gear.

When I saw him again I felt the familiar fizz of adrenaline and nervous flight won over courageous fight. He asked if he could interview me but I forgot all the words I ever knew. I couldn't challenge that beautiful voice or risk staring into those deep violet eyes. I am ashamed that instead of facing up to him I took a few measurements from around the studio and recommended that the building be evacuated. 

I collected my phone then returned to the lab with my measurements and a growing feeling of disappointment in myself. Perhaps science, pizza and sleep are not enough for me after all.

 

Strange Rain

The fatality index is high today, as it is every day, but definitely it is higher than usual. It might be something to do with the cloud, glowing with swirling colours, that arrived with the wind this morning. I sent three postgrads to the old town to investigate and write a report to assess the level of danger. They came back mostly unharmed, having mostly dodged the rain made from small animals. As the day progressed, the cloud swelled and the animals it dropped gradually increased in size. The report they eventually handed to me consisted of eight pages containing the words "all hail" repeated in different fonts and text styles. The cloud eventually moved on.

I'm glad the cloud moved on by itself. I had trouble sleeping last night, as most nights, and I feel kind of muffled today. Ell told me that there are not enough neurotransmitters in my synapses, a common side effect of sleep deprivation, and said I shouldn't operate any dangerous equipment today. After closing up the lab last night I went straight to bed but my mind went over and over my failed trip to the radio station. I replayed the scene to myself then imagined what I should have or could have said and done. I should have said stop talking about what I look like, I am a scientist and a person and there's more to me than that. I could have threatened to jam his broadcast if he did it again. None of the scenarios where I emerged having won made me feel any better. As I became drowsy my mind wandered wherever it wanted. I imagined how I might feel going into his studio during the break and telling him not to talk about me. My mind conjured up an image of me kissing him hard and us frantically fucking under his desk while at any moment the producer might return to his booth and see us through the window. I woke with a gasp as I came and the only thoughts in my head were: "wow, that hasn't happened in a long time" and "I didn't even call him by his name".

Ell turned on the radio in the lab this evening, hooked it up wirelessly to the lab sound system and hid it so that I couldn't turn it off. He didn't mention me at all. I don't know how I feel about that.


End file.
